


Mine

by Janina



Series: My Sweet Sin [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Blow Job, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9327437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: When Jon sees Sansa show up at church with a man, he has the driving need to claim her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Must be something in the air! As vivilove and I were saying earlier, our other fics with no smut are making us feel the need for a release! I woke up this morning thinking - I need some Jonsa smut badly!

She consumed his every thought. In the days that passed since they'd made love in his office in the rectory, Jon could not get Sansa out of his head. He kept envisioning her naked body, how her skin felt under his hands, and how his cock felt inside her. So many times he had to retreat to the bathroom or his room to get himself together. 

So many times he had prayed for direction, and his knees were sore from all the kneeling he'd done on the hardwood floor in his bedroom. He told himself he didn't deserve a cushion. Pain added to his penance. 

Yet, when he thought of Sansa, of how he loved her so completely, or irrevocably, he wondered how it could be a sin? There was also, he realized, a dark side to love. He'd counseled others on it before, without ever having actually experienced it himself, but love brought joy as well as pain. He felt as though he was free-falling without a parachute. He longed for her until he thought he might burst. His chest ached, his skin felt tight. He was having trouble eating and sleeping. He just wanted his sweet Sansa in his arms again while at the same time wondering if he could leave the church. If he could remove his collar forever and start a life with Sansa. Would she want that? She said she loved him, but had she meant it? Would she still want him if he left the church and was just a regular man? Was it the forbidden aspect that turned her on? Had she simply just been grateful to him for helping her through her father's death?

He had so many questions and the only one that could answer them was Sansa, and he had to wait to see her. He'd see her on Sunday at church, but then he had to wait again until she came to do her volunteer hours. 

He might not make it that long. Already he was ready to tear his hair out. 

By the time Sunday rolled around, Jon wished he could say all thoughts were directed only to mass that morning, and his sermon, but it wasn't. It was on Sansa. How he could not wait to see her. How he hoped to have a moment alone with her. 

How he needed to have her again soon before he went mad. 

When it was time for mass to begin and he came out to the pulpit to start, he did a quick scan of the room, his eyes roaming over the congregation, searching searching searching - 

She was there. Sitting a few pews back from the pulpit with... a man. A man he'd never seen before. And Jon knew that the man was with her because he was sitting right smack dab in the middle of her and her mother. He was handsome enough - blond hair, blue eyes, a sort of smirk playing on his face as he looked at Sansa who was not looking at him at all, but had her gaze focused solely on Jon. She was sitting forward, hands in her lap demurely, wearing a modest summer dress and her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. The man next to her leaned slightly toward her. 

It was obvious the other man was interested in Sansa. The way he looked at her, even in church, told him that. But did Sansa want him back?

It was then that Jon realized the organ and the choir had finished and he was just standing there in silence at the podium, staring at Sansa. 

"Welcome," he said, his voice cracking. He tore his eyes away from Sansa and told himself to focus on mass. 

It proved difficult. Near impossible, really. He wanted to storm down to Sansa's pew and drag her away from the man who wouldn't stop smiling at her so lecherously. 

He was jealous. Good God, he was jealous. And scared. He was afraid to lose her already. How would he go on without Sansa? Was this his sign? Was this his _direction_ to stay with the church, to give Sansa up? 

No. No. It couldn't be. He didn't accept it. He couldn't. He loved Sansa too much to give her up. 

When mass ended, Jon made his way outside as he usually did to say hello to his parishioners and wish them a good week. When Catelyn, Sansa, and the mystery man came up to him, Jon fought not to glare at the other man who walked so close to Sansa. When Sansa's eyes met his, he could see the urgency in them. 

"Sansa, are we still on for our noon appointment at your house?" Jon blurted out. 

Sansa looked a bit stunned for all of a second before she quickly recovered and said, "Yes, of course, Father. I'll make lunch."

"Oh, what will you and Father be discussing?" Catelyn asked with a smile.

"I have a few things I'd like to discuss with Sansa regarding further volunteer work," Jon said. 

"And instead of meeting at the rectory, I thought it might be nice if I have Father over for lunch. He's done so much for me, for us really."

Catelyn smiled. "He sure has."

"And who is this young man I've never seen with the Starks before?" Jon asked, trying to keep his smile even as he wanted to glare at the man. 

"Oh, this is Theon Greyjoy, Father," Catelyn said. "He's a friend of the family. Recently, he and Sansa reconnected. Isn't that nice?"

Jon didn't miss the way Sansa's jaw clenched and how her eyes went hard with annoyance. That was comforting, but it still didn't stop Jon from wanting her away from Theon Greyjoy. From wanting to fuck her and mark her as his and his alone. 

Now he was lying to protect what he and Sansa had, so what were a few more sins?

Greyjoy held out his hand to Jon and Jon took it, displaying himself as the courteous and ever-accepting priest when what he wanted to do was grip Greyjoy's hand until his bones cracked. 

"See you at noon, Father!" Sansa called over her shoulder, looking eager to leave. Hopefully, eager to get rid of Greyjoy. 

He had an hour and a half before he met with Sansa, and that hour and a half went by at a snail's pace. He returned to his room at the rectory and showered again, selecting all new clothes - black jeans this time, and his usual black shirt and collar. 

His hands began to shake as he drove to Sansa's, her little ranch on a street where the houses were set far apart. He pulled in the driveway wondering if his heart would give out before he actually got inside. 

When she opened the door to him, now dressed in a dress a little less modest – sleeveless with a plunging neckline and down to her mid-thighs – Jon noted she was barefoot and her toes were painted red. He could almost laugh at the symbolism of that color had he not been so desperate for her. He wasn’t sure how he was standing still, how he was existing really, and not having turned to ash right there. 

He’d been half hard since he’d gotten in his car, and now he was almost fully erect and unable to hide it. She noticed it too, the vixen. Her gaze dropped to the front of his jeans as he passed by and she bit her lip. 

Sansa closed the door and locked it and then backed away from him, smiling. “I did make us lunch, Jon. Follow me, the kitchen is just right through here.”

He did follow her, unable at present to form words. He’d never felt this way before, so consumed with need that he felt as though he was vibrating with it. And it wasn’t just the ever present need he had for her, it was the need to claim her, ensure she was truly in this with him, that she was his. 

_Thou shalt not have any other Gods before me._

Looking at Sansa now though, her creamy skin, her long legs, that silken red mane – he knew things about her now. He knew how soft her skin was. How she tasted. What she sounded like when she came. 

She was a Goddess. His Goddess of Love and Beauty. 

She led him through a dining room with a sideboard and an old weathered china cabinet. It had a dining room table that had a few books and papers on it too. 

Next was the kitchen, spacious and white with an island in the middle of it and a breakfast nook off to the side. Sansa went to the sink and looked over at him over her shoulder. “I was just washing the romaine for a salad,” she told him. “Would you like something to drink?”

Jon couldn’t wait anymore. 

He came up behind her and pressed himself against her. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and her hands stilled from shredding the romaine. She dropped it.

“Who was he to you, Sansa?” Jon rasped in her ear as he caged her against the sink with his body, putting his hands on either side of her. 

“No one,” she whispered. “A friend of my brothers. My Mom was trying to set us up.”

“Did you go on a date with him, Sansa?”

She didn’t reply and Jon growled. He stepped back and spun her around to face him. “You did. You went on a date with him. When?”

“L—last n-night,” she said, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t want to go, Jon. I swear. He was sort of…pushed on me. I went to make her happy—”

“Where did he take you?” 

“To dinner. And then I told him I wasn’t feeling well and he took me home.”

“Did he kiss you?” Just the thought of it made his blood boil. 

“No, no, I – I think he wanted to, but I never gave him the chance. Jon, I don’t want him. I don’t even _like_ him. He wanted to come today - I think he’s just trying to suck up my mother.” Her azure eyes welled up in tears. “Please don’t be angry with me. Please, Jon. I love you.”

He realized that he was perhaps scaring her. He was scaring himself. 

Gently, he caressed the side of her face. “Ssshhhh….ssshhh…Sansa…”

“I wanted to see you all week, but I didn’t know how to see you without anyone wondering why I was there again….I kept hoping you would call or text….I thought maybe you regretted it.”

Jon leaned in, pressing himself against her again and pressed his forehead to hers. “No, sweet girl, no… I don’t regret what we did.”

_Maybe a little, but it’s hard to cast off all that training…_

She sighed, sounding relieved. 

“Seeing him with you,” he whispered, “it drove me mad. I was jealous. I still am. I don’t want him near you, Sansa. I want you for myself.”

“You have me,” she breathed. “I’m yours.”

He lifted his head, looking at her. “Are you mine, Sansa?” he asked darkly. “All mine?”

She nodded. “Yes, yes.”

“Prove it.”

She nodded again, urgently, and kissed him while her trembling hands went to the snap of his jeans. Jon groaned into the kiss when her hand brushed up against his hard cock. 

“Sansa,” he gasped. 

She broke the kiss and sank down to her knees before him. Jon’s heart thumped hard in his chest at the sight of her on her knees before him. This was much different than in church. He would never be able to see her kneel in church again without thinking of this. 

She pulled down the zipper of his jeans and pulled them down. He wore boxer briefs today and she pulled his cock through the slit of them and one hand went to the counter behind him to keep himself upright. 

At the feel of her tongue along the slit of his cock, Jon’s eyes rolled up in his head. “Sansa,” he groaned. 

“Yes, my Jon?” she murmured, looking up at him through her lashes. 

“Please,” he said achingly. 

And then his cock was encased in her warm, wet mouth and he feared he might come then and there. Her tongue lashed along the length of him. Then swirled around the head, and then back in her mouth he went. She sucked hard on the head of him while her hand went to his balls still encased in cloth and pulled them out to fondle. 

“My Sansa, my Sansa, my Sansa,” Jon rambled. 

“Do you want to come in my mouth, Jon?” she asked, jerking him with her hand. 

He did, but not now. “No,” he managed to say. “I want inside you.”

“Do you want me to ride you again?”

“Bed. I want you in your bed. Please, sweetheart, please…”

“You need to take these jeans off before you fall on your face,” she said. “Let me help you.”

She helped him remove one shoe then the next, and then his socks. He managed to step out of his jeans and she carefully pulled his boxer briefs down and he stepped out of those. 

Next, he pulled off his collar and went to work on his shirt. Sansa smiled at him and pulled the straps of her sundress down and let the silky material fall to the floor. 

She was completely naked. 

Jon felt faint and he reached for her, slamming her body against his and kissing her hard. “I love you,” he rasped. 

She took his hand in hers and moved away from him. Silently, she led him to a set of stairs off the kitchen. Jon barely registered climbing them. His focus was on Sansa and only Sansa. His eyes swept over her body, filing ever dip and curve of her into his memory for when he went home later. 

He was her willing servant. 

When he could smell her scent more acutely, he knew they’d entered her bedroom. Lavender and grey, floral patterns, mahogany furniture and a bed. A big canopy bed that he wanted Sansa on. 

He yanked her to him, kissing her hungrily, his cock aching. “Now,” he growled. 

“How? On my back? On my knees?”

He groaned, his eyes shutting at the idea of her on her knees. “Yes,” he said huskily. “Your knees.”

He was depraved. He was going to take her like an animal. 

He didn’t care at the moment. Maybe later. 

Sansa went to the bed and climbed on top of it. She looked over her shoulder at him and shimmied her ass. “Take me the way you want, Jon.”

Jon climbed up on the bed, panting. His cock was dripping. His skin felt tight. He was light-headed. 

Leaning down while on his knees, Jon pushed his mouth into her cunny and drove his tongue inside her. She was so wet….

“Jon,” she whined and lurched forward to grip the headboard. 

Jon licked at her, her wine falling onto his tongue. 

“Take me, Jon,” she gasped. 

Jon straightened and groaned as he grasped his cock in his hand and guided himself to her opening. He pushed forward and squeezed his eyes shut at the feel of her tight wet walls sucking him inside her. She was so tight…

Slowly, he began to move, acclimating himself to this position. He liked it. He felt as though he was deeper inside her this way than the first time. “Am I hurting you?” he croaked. 

“No,” she moaned. “You’re so deep inside me, Jon. I love it.”

He did too. Encouraged, he moved faster. Harder. 

“Yes, like that,” Sansa gasped. “Yesss…”

“I’m so hot for you,” he muttered. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Wanting you. Needing you.”

She nodded as she bent her lower half onto the bed and twisted her head to look at him. Her hands were on her breasts, fondling them. 

Jon’s control, which had already been stretched thin, snapped. He began to pound into her hard. He could hear himself grunting. He heard the pounding of the headboard against the wall. “Mine,” he panted, his voice rough, sounding almost animal to his ears. “You’re mine, Sansa. _Mine._ ”

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes, I’m yours, Jon.” And then she screamed as the walls of her cunt throbbed around his cock. She was coming, her eyes shut in ecstasy, and her fingers digging into the comforter of her bed. Jon thrust hard once, twice, and then held himself inside her and erupted with a roar. 

Sansa’s knees gave out, and Jon followed her down onto the bed. He lay half on top of her, and half on top of the bed. He curled an arm around her middle and drew her closer, burying his face in the back of her neck. “I love you,” he whispered, panting. “I love you, sweet girl.”

“I love you,” she gasped. “Stay with me a while.”

“Yes,” he murmured against her neck. He never wanted to leave her. Ever.


End file.
